Hanging from the glistening rail,
Shiny droplets lose their tenuous grip;
Petunias in baskets, slump, defeated,
Deck flooring shines wax-like,
Birds, animals and bugs
Hunker down and wait
For a glimpse of sun
As do I!

Eleanor Kidd, Port Sydney

A blanket of silence, white and still,
Covers the wintry lake,
No hint of warmth wrapped within.
Shadows, like unsheathed sabres
Lying abandoned, link islands to shore.
Assuming a stern military stance,
Hills in rigid, glacial rows
Glare icily at darkly etched maples,
Bowing to a frigid breeze’s whim.
An occasional capricious snowflake
Drifts up, down and around,
A sly reminder of our vulnerability
To all of the Iceman’s vagaries.